


Absolute Corruption

by seikaitsukimizu



Series: Absolute Corruption [1]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Episode Tag, Episode: s04e17 Absolute Power, M/M, SG-1 Crossover, Sexual Slavery, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seikaitsukimizu/pseuds/seikaitsukimizu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind. He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you. A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Corruption

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted 9/17/06 on LJ.](http://mckay-sheppard.livejournal.com/1043974.html)

The day Samantha Carter was put in jail, Rodney McKay put in twenty calls using every personal favor he had to either get her released, or at least get in to see her and discover for himself if she truly was insane. 

The day Moscow vanished from the face of the Earth, Rodney found himself the voice of reason in a sea of chaos. He directed the scientists to their labs, deactivated all major power sources throughout the base, then found a tiny supply closet where he proceeded to ignore his claustrophobia and chant to himself ‘this can’t be real, this can’t be real, oh my god, they destroyed Moscow!’ before throwing up four times.

The day after, he was transported to one Daniel Jackson, and offered a job.

Head of Extraterrestrial Research. It meant he had to remain in the underground bunker for a few months, before the compound was deemed safe, but he didn’t mind. Actually, he didn’t have a choice. Daniel had made it clear he’d put up with Rodney’s attitude, put up with his insults and snide comments and curses, as long as he showed results. And if he didn’t, he’d be tortured. It wasn’t overtly stated, but the threat was implied.

Five years later, he has his own compound, adjacent to Daniel’s, and he runs Area 52. He’s considered one of the most powerful men in the world. _“Rodney McKay,”_ some whisper, _“Daniel Jackson’s right-hand man.”_ Others would shy away from him, saying _“that’s McKay, the Devil’s hand.”_ There are even some who question whether Daniel really is the man in charge, or if McKay is actually pulling the strings.

Rodney knows all of this, because Daniel has spies and cameras everywhere, and shows it to Rodney over breakfast one morning. It’s amusing, with some laughter and jokes, but while Daniel is smiling, his eyes are steel, and Rodney knew that the man who had said, _“Naw, it’s really MCKAY who runs things”_ had not survived the day.

Breakfast at the Jackson’s is a weekly event, and sometimes Daniel’s son is there--a wasp in Rodney’s side because he always bugs Rodney to play a game or check out some asinine drawing. The kid was Daniel’s only vice, though, and after one round with the ribbon device, Rodney knew better than to insult, hurt, or even glare at the little brat. Rodney suspects Daniel knows it’s a front, but tolerates it because he’s so good at what he does. 

Technological advancement is at an all-time high, so much so that Rodney had told Daniel last week that starships could be built soon; ones that would rival the strength and speed of the Goa'uld, probably even surpass them. He wasn’t given the go-ahead, of course. Daniel always thought long and hard before granting a project to continue. But Earth was safe, the nations had settled (peace was enforced through sheer obliteration--much of the Middle East was now missing), and the ships would allow for colony worlds, as well as a chance to engage and take down the Goa'uld.

It’s a triumphant moment for humanity, and Rodney plays up its importance, as well as his excitement (which he didn’t have to play up too much). It isn’t real, though. For all of Rodney’s hard work and dedication, he’s seen what Daniel’s power play has cost. He knows Sam didn’t committed suicide, not with how professionally her throat had been cut. He’d lost a good scientific rival and potential second-in-command when Moscow was wiped out, and the loss of Zelenka’s genius has dimmed the overall scientific community in Rodney’s opinion.

So for all the whispers, the looks, the assumption that Rodney McKay is Daniel Jackson’s best commander, a blind follower, he actually isn’t. He has ways of preventing Daniel from seeing him--he helped develop Daniel’s latest surveillance equipment, after all--he knows how everything works, from the defense satellites to the ring transporters now located around the globe. 

And he knows that all he needs is a starship, and he can stop this, stop Daniel. He can take down the defense system--even destroy it if necessary--without using the access codes Daniel has provided him with (he didn’t trust them anyways, what lunatic would hand out access codes to the world?). He knows how to disable the brainwashed soldiers thanks to an intentional design flaw in their cranial microchips. He just had to be sure to be off the planet on a ship he could control--and override, if Daniel somehow outsmarted him--in order to do it. 

The civilian population would be able to handle the security forces, and as for Daniel…well, there were rogue cells--terrorists, according to the tightly controlled media--that were fighting against the Goa'uld-like oppression. The Resistance still had arms, still evaded capture, and once security and weapons were down, they’d take on the heavily-armed compound (Rodney already had a worm designed to take out its security protocols within hours). It’d be a bloody battle, and he doubted he’d survive, but he couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

At times, he wondered if this was how Tok’ra operatives felt when finally plotting the demise of the Goa'uld they’d served so faithfully. Just a few more years, he just has to make it long enough to get the first starship operational and convince Daniel he has to be on it for the dry run. Then it can finally be finished, and Sam’s death, along with the thousands of others, will finally be avenged.

That was the future, however, and today is once again Breakfast at the Jackson’s. From the signs of it, the brat wouldn’t be in today (Rodney now vaguely recalled a brief paragraph from Daniel about a trip to Greece for a school project). Since there are no servants around to guide him, he simply lets himself into the dining room and takes his usual seat. It isn’t the first time Daniel has been late, and it allows Rodney to compose his arguments (he’s expecting the project to be approved today, but just in case he has a fourteen-week plan that will eventually force Daniel to capitulate without him seeming like a nagging scientist).

After thirty minutes, he’s detailed his fourteen-week plan so finely he has it down to eleven weeks, and his stomach is rumbling. After an hour, he stands up and uses the button by the doorway summoning the help. When no one comes, Rodney wondered if there’s been an attack and they’re all hiding in the bunker (in which case, why hadn’t they thought to warn him?). After a minute of indecision, Rodney heads for the kitchen, to sneak out the back (in case it IS an attack) and beg forgiveness if it’s something else.

He lets out an unmanly yelp when Daniel materializes in front of the doorway. Not literally materializes (they’re still working on understanding the stolen Asgard transporter), but enough so that Rodney is caught off-guard. Daniel is as well, apparently, for confusion blooms on his face, before it settles into the usual easy smile. The eyes even sparkle a bit, and McKay takes an involuntary step back. “Rodney, I’m sorry. I forgot about our breakfast.”

“Nice to know I’m memorable.” Corners of the smile twitch. “So what was it this time? Uprising in Kuwait? International conference?”

“Actually, just gathering some information.” Daniel looks Rodney up and down appraisingly, and Rodney swallows. “I think you can help.” Nodding his head once, Daniel snaps his fingers twice--Rodney flinches back at seeing the ribbon device--before strolling past Rodney and into the dining room. Rodney stands gaping, before he hears the tell-tale signs of rings, and servants begin filing into the house. Tentatively, he makes his way back to the dining room.

Daniel is standing behind his chair, smile still in place. “Have I ever expressed how much I appreciate all you do for me, Rodney?”

The hairs on the back of Rodney’s neck stand up. He’s tempted to bolt, but knows it’s a futile thought. Instead, he leans on the back of his usual chair and frowns. “I have my own mansion, a base of lab rats, and access to the greatest technology in the world. I’d say you express it every time you give my projects approval.” He isn’t some lackey that needs to be patted on the head, and for all of Daniel’s megalomaniac tendencies, Rodney thought Daniel had retained some of his insight into people.

“Ah, the Halo project.” Daniel’s brow furrows for a moment. “All right, but we’ll be taking it slow.” His forehead smoothes out again. “And I know, Rodney. But I think you deserve something more. If I could, I’d put in a good word for Sam, but…” 

Rodney clenches the back of his chair so hard it creaks, and he wills himself not to show anything but hurt on his face. “You think I’m lonely.”

For a moment, Daniel’s eyes narrow. “I know you are.”

A reminder that Daniel knows everything Rodney does, a reminder Rodney doesn’t need. And really, it isn’t much of a secret, so there’s little harm in admitting it. He rolls his eyes. “Then it must not have escaped your attention that I’m terribly busy and have no time for a social life, much less solicit a hooker--which I don’t need to do to get laid! I could have any-”

Daniel laughs, waving a hand at Rodney, the jewelry-free hand. It sounds hollow, even forced. “I know, Rodney, I know. I’ve heard how all your little minions are incompetent morons that you have to watch eternally.” The smiling mask slides back into place as he presses buttons on the back of the ribbon device. A minute later the rings in the corner (an emergency escape set, according to Daniel) activate, and deposit three people.

The man on the right, holding a staff weapon is Daniel’s head of prisoner security, Colonel Bates. He’s strict, rude, and likes to shoot first, never ask questions. Rodney also knows those are the only parts of Bates’ personality that survived Daniel’s brainwashing. The other man is young, a new gate guard by the name of Ford. Since the younger generation embraced the peaceful yet seemingly-free world, they only underwent some mental conditioning that prevented them from turning towards the Resistance. Ford is a fun young man, that smiles way too much for an ex-marine in Rodney’s opinion.

Between them, on his knees in a torn, filthy black security uniform, is a man Rodney has never seen before. His hair, though limping, still seems to stick up as if he’d been pressed against a pillow. His right eye is swollen shut, matching the throbbing side of his cheek. There’s a bruise on the left temple, left from the removal of a memory device, along with a gash that had barely crusted over. There are welts, cuts, and bruises all over the rest of him, and Rodney wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few broken bones. The man’s hands are shackled in front of him, and a collar is locked around his neck, a glowing green crystal indicating that the silencing device is working.

Daniel glancses at the prisoner. “This is John Sheppard. Ex-Air Force. He likes ferris wheels, things that go over 200 miles an hour…” Daniel’s smile slips away, leaving the straight-lipped, cold emperor that was so often hidden in front of Rodney. “He infiltrated my bunker quite effectively. Almost disabled the satellites before the nanites took him down.”

Rodney winces, feeling sorry for the man. He’d developed the nanites--based on the Argos virus--to infect and render helpless anyone in the command bunker that was working at a station they weren’t allowed to. One touch was all it’d take to be affected, and though the effect of the nanites was painful, Rodney had engineered them to be as quick as possible. 

“He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind.” Colonel Bates’ face twists into a sick grin, and Rodney feels a his own stomach churn. “He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you.” Daniel shrugs one shoulder. “A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”

Sheppard looks up sharply--or what must have seemed sharply for a man with an obvious concussion--and Rodney sees fear for an instant, than anger, before it is replaced with empty acceptance. Beaten, bloody, but not broken. Rodney isn’t a people person, but he can at least recognize that. Which means that he’d probably at least try to escape, if not simply try and kill him. Still, if Rodney rejects Daniel’s gift (as if he could, this was Daniel after all), he’s willing to bet Bates will execute the man then and there. 

He frowns as he takes Sheppard’s bedraggled state, then gives Daniel a tight, crooked smile. “Thanks. I’ll try to prevent him from peeing in your yard.” Daniel smiles brightly back, as if Rodney had made him the happiest man alive. Ignoring the urge to roll he eyes, he looks first at Bates, then Ford. It’s the younger man he snaps his fingers at. “Well? Don’t just stand there. Bring him to, to…” He has to think for a moment. “To the guest room in the east wing.”

Ford grins at him. “You got it, McKay.” Bates shifts his glare to Ford, probably for not affording Doctor McKay the proper respect. Rodney only cared if his peers got it right. Besides, Ford is one of the better guards, so Rodney’s willing to cut him some slack (not trust him, but he’d trust Ford over Bates any day). After a minute, the three of them vanish behind the rings, and Rodney is left alone with Daniel. 

They stand there in silence for a minute, then Daniel raises an eyebrow. “So, Rodney. Breakfast?”

Rodney feels rather sick to his stomach, but he’s used to ignoring that, especially after Daniel springs surprises on him. “Finally. I’m hypoglycemic, you know.” He takes his seat as Daniel rolls his eyes and summons the servants to bring in the food.

~*()*~

Since Daniel had already approved Project Halo, Rodney spent most of breakfast discussing the progress of various projects, and his projections for future projects (there were official reports he submitted, but for some reason Daniel preferred to discuss them in person). He doesn’t return to his own compound until almost ten, upon which it’s only seeing Bates leaving his front door that he remembers his new ‘pet’ in the East wing. 

Feeling uneasy, he heads towards the guest rooms. It’s easy to figure out which room Sheppard is in, Ford is standing guard outside. Ignoring the grinning Lieutenant, he enters the room and shuts the door behind him. Sheppard is still kneeling, a new bruise on his other cheek, undoubtedly from Bates. His head remains down, until the door closes, then Sheppard looks up, sharp hazel eyes looking Rodney over. Rodney stands there for a minute, then approaches the man cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal (and maybe that isn’t far from the truth, he figures).

The manacles, he sees, glisten a dull green in the light from the window, meaning they’re made from refined naquada. He also sees another chain snake between John’s legs, and leaning a bit to the left Rodney can see Sheppard’s ankles have a matching set of restraints. No wonder the man isn’t moving, the metal weighs a ton. Stopping in front of the man, Rodney hesitates, then reaches down. Sheppard tenses and inhales sharply, eyes now locked on the wall. 

Rodney waits a moment, then runs his thumb over the green crystal in the necklace, deactivating it. Then he steps back so Sheppard will feel more comfortable. Sheppard doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, just continues to kneel at attention. Finally, Rodney lets out a huff of air and crosses his arms. “So are you actually mute, or has the cat got your tongue.” He frowns. “Watch out for her, by the way. She likes to claw people she doesn’t know.”

That gets a reaction, minor though it is. Sheppard’s eyes dart around the room, seeking out the cat, before focusing on the wall again. Tapping his foot, Rodney debates what to do, then rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m not exactly thrilled with getting you as a pet,” he knows Daniel will hear this, but he’s said less flattering things about Daniel’s ‘gifts’ before and has only been punished by spending time with Shifu. “But you can either relax and get used to the idea, or I can call Colonel Bates and let him do to you what he wants.”

Sheppard frowns at that, but his chest puffs up. Obviously, he’s one of those ‘death before dishonor’ idiots. “And despite what you might’ve heard, I’m not exactly enamored with sending people to their deaths.” He kneels on the ground and reaches for the manacles. “So why don’t we both just make the best of a bad situation and you get with the program.”

Sheppard finally looks at Rodney, and after a small staring contest, he smiles slowly (sultry, Rodney thinks), and leans forward so their cheeks are almost touching. “If you let me go, McKay,” the voice is low, rumbling, and sends a cold shiver down Rodney’s spine. “I’ll snap your neck before you can blink.”

Rodney jerks back, losing his balance and falling back on his ass. His eyes are wide as he takes in Sheppard’s smug look. He’s smirking, but his eyes are cold and sharp, and Rodney knows it’s no idle threat. Scowling, he gets back to his feet. “Well, fine. Not like I wanted a pet anyways. I owe Sumner, he can have you.” 

Real fear flashes across Sheppard’s face, and Rodney almost--almost--feels sorry for the man. Sumner is an ex-marine that Daniel charged with hunting out all Resistance groups. Bates may have been an asshole, but Sumner took real delight in breaking people. He’d seen some of the videos (and subsequently lost his breakfast--he was able to blame food poisoning, but Daniel knew he’d gotten his point across), and turning over Sheppard to Sumner is, in many respects, worse than a death sentence.

But he has plans, long-term plans, to free the Earth. He can’t deal with a ‘pet’ that’s trying to kill him. He can only devote so much energy to watch his own back; all of which has to be directed to protect himself from Daniel’s eyes and ears. He just can’t deal with Sheppard, not now, not when he finally has the ball rolling. 

Of course, it’s a bluff; he’d rather let Bates shoot Sheppard than hand him over to Sumner; but with luck, Sheppard won’t know that. Or at least won’t call his bluff.

After five minutes, Sheppard’s shoulders straighten again and his eyes take on the hardness from before. “Then do what you have to do.” His voice is resigned, even pained.

“Oh come on!” Rodney stomps on the floor. “You can’t be that much of an idiot!” Sheppard jerks back in surprise at Rodney’s outburst. “You can’t be that eager to be a martyr! Sumner will torture you! You can’t really want to be turned into a mindless shell of your former self!” His scowl deepens. “I hate self-sacrificing idiots! You have a choice here, and you’re making the wrong one!”

“Hmm…shot on sight, tortured, or raped by the second-biggest monster on the planet. Decisions, decisions.” The note of resignation is still there, but there is also a hint of a sarcastic drawl. 

“Raped--what kind of twisted bastard do you think I am?!”

“You’re Daniel’s right hand man-”

“And that means I take beat-up resistance prisoners and fuck them for pleasure?! Is that the propaganda going around?! Christ! No wonder you Resistance freaks are failing! You’re all a bunch of morons!”

Sheppard’s eyes narrow, and a bit of the unbroken spirit rears its head. “This Resistance ‘freak’ nearly shut down the defense system. It was only because you programmed those nanites-”

“Because idiots who don’t have a clue how the technology works shouldn’t touch it! If you just shut the system down, there’s a good chance they’d overload, or worse, start firing randomly!” It was a failsafe Daniel had insisted on installing, after the US President attempted to shut the system down a second time. The world leaders know what would happen, but the information is deliberately kept from the public. 

Apparently they had done such a good job of keeping it a secret that even the Resistance didn’t know, if Sheppard’s widening eyes are anything to go by. “He wouldn’t…Jackson wants to protect-”

“And he knew he needed some sort of failsafe incase some moron figured out a remote system. They’d see the additional programming and be forced to stop because only Sam or Daniel could find a way around my codes.” He isn’t worried about giving away state secrets. The compounds are designed to keep people in as much as to keep strangers out. And Sheppard…he’d most likely be shot if he even attempted to leave. 

“Sam?” 

Rodney flinches slightly, sticking his chin out. “Sam Carter. The second most brilliant mind on this planet. At least, before she committed…suicide.” 

And Sheppard’s suspicious look is now back. “She was murdered.”

Rodney finds it rather ironic that Sheppard will never know how much Rodney wants to confirm his statement. “Whatever.” He waves the topic away. “Now can you just…put away all the macho martyr crap and, and…” He searches for an appropriate phrase.

“Lay back and take it?” Sheppard winces as he shifts his arms. “I’d rather die-”

“I’m not going to fuck you! I don’t care if live in this room until you die!” Rodney crosses his arms again and fumes. The man is being impossible. 

“Then what do you care what happens?” Emotion creeps into Sheppard’s voice, disgust (at Rodney or himself, Rodney can’t tell), anger, and just the barest sliver of hope. “If you don’t care what happens to me, then why don’t you have the Colonel execute me?!”

Rodney stews over that for a minute. He certainly can’t answer honestly, not without signing his own death sentence. “Daniel gave you to me as a pet.”

“He gave me to you as a fuck toy,” John says bitterly. 

Rodney snorts. "Yes, well, Daniel and I actually have some differing opinions in that area. If he wanted to get me a present, I think I'd have just preferred another cat." John's head actually snaps up and his eyes went comically wide. Rodney frowns slightly, until the way his words might have sounded actually register. "Not like THAT!" he protests indignantly. "Is that all you Resistance-people think about? Never mind, don't answer that. Look, whatever you think I'm going to do to you, I can assure you I have no interest in doing." 

Rodney's mouth narrows into a thin slit and he scowls at the other man. "Your virtue is perfectly safe with me." John doesn’t answer, and for what felt like the hundredth time, Rodney rolls his eyes heavenward, wondering why he’s even bothering. "I swear on your intact virtue that I have never abused Hathor." Hathor had come to him named, and had simply refused to acknowledge anything else. Plus, while Daniel loved the animal, the name always seemed to discomfort him. Rodney was all for throwing Daniel off, even if it was over a stupid name.

“So, what? I’m your new cat?” The sarcasm was back.

“As long as you don’t pee on the curtains and try to lick yourself in front of company, sure.” Rodney pauses, then approaches Sheppard again. This time, Sheppard doesn’t tense, but he watches Rodney, eyes narrow. Rodney kneels beside Sheppard, moving slowly. He finds the latch on one of the ankle manacles, and releases it. Sheppard remains still as Rodney then reaches over and unlatches the second one. He backs up again, this time sitting on the edge of the (way too flowery, but the interior designer had insisted) bed. 

Sheppard keeps up the eye contact, but he shifts first one ankle, then the second, and after another few minutes of scrutiny, closes his eyes before falling to the side and rolling out of the restraints. The chain attached to his hands keeps him from moving far, but when he rights himself, he’s able to sit properly, with his back almost (but not touching, Rodney notices) the wall. Finally, the eyes open again. His mouth is partially open, but nothing comes out. 

Rodney lets some of his usual irritation leave his voice. “I’m a very busy man, Sheppard. I don’t have time to deal with you trying to kill me, or any little rebellions or sabotage attempts or any other Resistance ideas you have. If you can’t just…deal with this, I will send you to Bates.” He isn’t even going to bluff with Sumner now, he doubts Sheppard would believe him at this point anyways. “I’m not going to fuck you, literally or in the head.”

Sheppard’s voice is quiet. “I can’t trust you. You helped him make this base, helped him take over the planet.” He isn’t looking at Rodney, he’s focusing on the chain hanging from between his hands. “For all I know, I’m your next practice dummy for your latest ray gun.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Carson’s the only one who uses dummies for anything.” The geneticist had been brought in shortly after finding the Ancient gene data from the Asgard computer. “I’m not saying you have to like me, or that I want you to be my best friend, or anything like that. But this,” he waves his arm around the room, “this has to be better than the alternative.”

Sheppard closes his eyes again, letting out a sigh. “I was ready to die on this mission. If anyone found out I was alive…”

“Please. Do you really think there’s Resistance in here that Daniel hasn’t found? It’s kind of hard to fight the Tok’ra memory device.”

Sheppard’s shoulders hunch at that. “I don’t want to live a…a prisoner of war.”

“Well, maybe when you get over this whole need to kill me, you can help me in the lab. Or help clean.” Sheppard opens one questioning eye at him. In response, Rodney throws up his arms. “I don’t know! I’m terrible at this! You think I’ve had a lot of experience in talking stupid people out of committing suicide?! At least I’m trying!”

A corner of Sheppard’s mouth twitches upwards. “You don’t get a lot of visitors, do you.”

“What part of ‘very busy man’ did you not get?”

Sheppard rolls his eyes, then looks back at his manacles. Silence reigned again, but not as long this time. “You’re not like the lectures.”

“Oh? What does your propaganda say about me? That I blow up busloads of nuns? Eat children? Kick puppies every chance I get?”

“No. Well, yes to the puppies.”

“I do not-”

Sheppard ignores his outrage. “But they paint you similar to Sumner. Only you execute lab interns and scientists who disagree with you. That you test all your inventions on innocents, or prisoners.” Sheppard pauses, and Rodney really doesn’t know what to say. This was the first time he’s heard real Resistance propaganda. “Very competent, with no cares about the world, only obsessed with science and pleasing Daniel. They say,” and he seems to hesitate for a beat, “they say you’re the second-in-command, the one who runs the world when Daniel’s busy. And that you wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a continent to get a point across.”

“I’m worse than Daniel? I blow up continents?”

“Yup.”

Rodney snorts. “Let me put your mind at ease, Sheppard. The only interns that died have done so due to their own stupidity in handling very dangerous objects. I have never executed anyone, nor do I really want to. I run my tests on soldiers who, you know will USE the equipment I design. Yes, I’m obsessed with my work, but I also spend three hours with Hathor each day, and work with universities once a month to make sure they’re not breeding another generation of idiot physicists.”

Sheppard doesn’t relax. “Are you his second-in-command? Do you run the world?”

“Please. If I ran the world-” Rodney stops there, frowning for a moment, then shrugs. “Actually, Daniel can have the world. I hate politics.” Sheppard glances at him from under his eyelashes. “And I’m Daniel’s…well…advisor. He wouldn’t put me in command. Do you really think I’d handle well under the pressure?”

Another tug at the lips. “No, I guess not.” He sighs. “But you’re still going to design technology to help Daniel, to help kill my friends.”

“Daniel pulled all the information from your mind. Your friends are probably dead.” He’s seen it happen before, happen in less than a day. Bates is very efficient with information. “And yes, I am. Because it’s my job. And I do actually enjoy it on some level.” It was advanced alien technology, how could he not?

Sheppard clenches his fists. “I won’t help you.”

“I’m not asking you to. You’re ex-military. The most I’d expect from you is to fetch my coffee. Or entertain Hathor.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “And make my bed. The maid never gets it quite right.”

Once again Sheppard goes silent. This time, it lasts more than just a few minutes. It lasts long enough that Rodney thinks Sheppard has passed out sitting up. But, finally, the fists unclench, and Sheppard lets out a long breath. “If you think I’m going to be another slave, that I won’t take him out the first chance I get-”

“I’m fully aware of the Resistance’s goals, and if you want to commit suicide after our little talk, fine. I’m just asking you to--as corny as it sounds--live. For a prison, it’s not bad.” He glances around. “And I could, um, you know…bring a book…or talk about hockey or something.”

“I won’t be your friend, either,” Sheppard whispers.

Rodney freezes for a moment, but lets it go. “So, if you’re going to be my pet,” Sheppard flinches at that, “we need to get you taken care of. If I go get Carson, will you kill him?”

“Carson?”

“Well, I could get Doctor Sanji, but I thought you’d prefer a doctor over a veterinarian.”

“He won’t…” 

Half of Rodney’s mouth turns upward, eyes twinkling slightly. “I wouldn’t worry. He cries every time he injects his mice for benign experiments.”

Sheppard looks up at him again, exploring his face. Finally, a small, worried smile appears. “Well, if you think I need a band-aid or two…”

“I keep my pets well, Sheppard.” Standing up, he heads for the door. “And if you promise to try not to kill him, I’ll even get Ford to leave the manacles off.”

Sheppard glances down at his hands, and, after an obviously conflicted moment, nods. “Okay.” He lets out another deep breath. “Okay.”

~*()*~

Rodney doesn’t get back to Sheppard for almost four days. In that time, he’s begun issuing orders for the Halo project, looking for proper resources from universities (manpower was all well and good, but he needed brains for this project), and has one talk with Daniel (where the man indicated he was…displeased by Rodney’s handling of the Sheppard situation, but let it slide--Bates was only a ring trip away, after all). 

When his attention is finally pulled towards Sheppard again, it’s because Ford (who has been promoted to Sheppard’s personal guard) sought him out saying Sheppard was acting stir crazy. So, scooping up Hathor and grabbing a few of his favorite novels, he heads for the east wing to entertain his other ‘pet.’ As soon as he opens the door, Sheppard visibly perked up. Dead eyes flash with emotion, he began straightening up (and tried to subtly hide the bandages Carson had applied by pulling his sleeves down), and his hair seemed to defy gravity more than it had a moment ago.

“McKay.” Sheppard’s tone is cautious, and definitely strained. “Good to see you.”

Ford stops outside the door, but doesn’t enter. Rodney isn’t foolish enough to close the door for privacy. Sheppard may have agreed to try behaving, but he still remembered the cold fury, the training Sheppard has that could end Rodney’s life in a literal heartbeat. So, he steps in the room and sets Hathor down. She immediately begins investigating the room. Sheppard watches as she moves around, and if Rodney hadn’t known how good at deception Sheppard is, he’d say the man’s full attention was on the cat.

Rodney ignores Hathor and sets the books down on the antique (and he’d nearly bludgeoned the decorator for bringing in a wood desk when he’d specifically stated he hated antiques) desk facing the window that John had been pacing in front of moments ago. “I hear you’re wearing a hole in my very nice floor.”

“You have ugly rugs, McKay.” Sheppard was already turning his attention away from Hathor and approaching the desk, reaching for the top book. “ _Dune_?”

Rodney sniffs. “It’s a classic.”

“I know. I’ve read it.” 

“I can take it back.” Sheppard has already put it out of Rodney’s reach, fingers exploring the cover of the next book as if it were a long-lost lover. His eyes caught a bit of white under the edge of the sleeve of the black turtleneck. “Is someone changing your bandages?” And just like that, Sheppard’s walls went back up. 

“Yeah. Doc Beckett’s taking care of me.” He tugs the sleeves down again.

Rodney doesn’t need to see Sheppard’s wounds to believe it. Carson’s good. He simply nods, standing there shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “So, uh, you settling in?”

“I’m a prisoner, McKay.” Sheppard’s eyes stray to the books again, then to the window. “I don’t like being confined.”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you joined the Resistance.” 

Sheppard shoots him an annoyed look. “Yes, because living under the threat of obliteration is so much better.”

“There’s something to be said for world peace.”

“I’m sure the victims of Moscow would disagree.” John looks out the window. 

“The good of the few and all that. As a soldier, I’d think you’d know that.” Rodney doesn’t really believe what he’s was saying. Some incidents, like Iran, had been necessary to stop a nuclear holocaust. But Moscow…that had simply been cruel. For all his plans, though, Rodney can’t vocally renounce Daniel’s actions. 

“There’s the good of the many, McKay, and mass murder.” Sheppard’s tone is darker, eyes shadowed in the reflection from the window. “He was ruthless.”

Rodney shrugs. “I didn’t know Daniel then. And when it happened, I was busy organizing the chaos afterward.” He still has nightmares of that day at Area 52. He bites his lip. “What were you doing that day?”

John’s shoulders bunch up, and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of the new BDUs. “What do you care?”

“I was at Area 52,” Rodney says, moving over to the bed to pet Hathor, who had curled up on the bedspread. “We were monitoring the satellite launch, and when they turned on Moscow…people lost it. The military tried to lock everything down, but have you ever seen panicked scientists? There was almost a shoot out.” Rodney looks down to his pet. “You want to know why Daniel chose me? Other than my brilliance, of course. Greatest natural genius on the planet.”

He can see Sheppard’s jaw clench from the corner of his eye, but no sound is forthcoming. “Daniel chose me,” Rodney continues, “because I stood on a lab table and threw a very heavy piece of equipment across the room.” He glances up in time to see Sheppard’s eyes focus on him. “Yeah. It was the only way I could think of to get everyone’s attention. Two years of research, destroyed. But it got the job done. From there, I sent the military out to lock down the base, told the scientists what to do, prepared for war, prepared to survive a siege.

“I took people’s mind off of the disaster, gave them something to focus on, made them productive. We were all thinking of Moscow’s obliteration, it haunted us, but it didn’t stop us. I may not handle well under the pressure of, say, a world. But a lab? A military base? Yeah, I can handle it. But I saved a potentially volatile situation from erupting. And considering the weapons and technology we were handling? That’s a big deal. Without me, the entire state of Nevada could be gone today.”

Finished, Rodney looks back to Hathor. The feline has rolled onto its side, and Rodney obligingly rubs her stomach. He doesn’t know if Sheppard will share as well, but with luck it will show the man that Rodney is just as human as he is. Sure, he’d left out the whole freaking out and losing control of his stomach thing, but Sheppard really doesn’t need to hear about that. 

“I was in the air.”

Rodney’s head snaps up. John is still staring out the window, but his hands are out of his pockets, gripping the edge of the desk. “In the air?”

“I entered the air force to fly. We were on alert because of the satellites. After Moscow, the President…” Sheppard’s hands tighten on the wood. “We were grounded.” He looks at Rodney’s reflection. “I lived to fly, McKay. Jackson took that away from me when he disbanded the armies of the world. The Resistance was my only hope of flying again without being brainwashed.”

And in the years since Rodney had been working with Daniel, commercial flights had basically been replaced. Why risk the dangers of air travel when you could simply ring to the other side of the planet in a minute. Only Daniel’s personal soldiers got to fly now, modified X-302s (and Rodney still thought the military name was stupid) used to patrol the world, scouring out unrest and Resistance. 

Sheppard’s shoulders drop. “I had friends stationed in Russia. Most of them died, some…the horror stories, the aftermath.” John looks over his shoulder. “Have you seen the pictures of ground zero? Of the area around it? Some people died when half of their bodies vaporized. Just…vaporized! And all they were guilty of was going out for a stroll that morning!” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t live under that. I can’t-” He turns around abruptly. “You can’t get it, McKay. This life, living under a tyrant, indiscriminate incarceration and execution…”

“It hasn’t been all bad,” Rodney keeps his voice firm, even if in his head it’s trembling slightly.

“Oh come on! You can’t seriously tell me Carter’s death wasn’t bad! That the geniuses lost in Moscow, or Iran, or Germany weren’t bad! We fought for freedom, we DIED for freedom! And now…now…” Sheppard lets out a frustrated grunt and sits against the edge of the desk. “No one has any civil liberties,” he finally says, energy seeming to drain out of him. “Even you, McKay.”

Preaching to the choir, is all Rodney could think of. He says, “If you’re trying to recruit me, or change my mind about what I’m doing? Don’t bother. Alien technology outweighs civil liberties any day. And hello, ring technology? Healing devices? You think I’m going to give up the comforts of living under Daniel for scrounging and scraping and living a life on the run underground?”

A weak smile spreads across Sheppard’s face. “I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Yes, well, save the American patriot speech for someone who isn’t Canadian.” 

Sheppard nods, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I suppose the whole ‘being a revolutionary is sexy’ speech won’t work, either.”

“Do I look like someone who’s desperate for sex?” At that, Sheppard raises his eyebrows, and Rodney can swear he hears Ford cough. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, McKay.”

“I have a first name, you know.”

Sheppard blinks at him, looking slightly confused. “Uh, all I really remember is McKay. That’s the name they hammered in us to remember on ‘list of people to kill on sight.’”

Rodney rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. The whole Resistance ‘off with his head’ mentality. We’ve been over it.” He lets out a huff of breath. “Rodney. You can call me Rodney.”

“I dunno. I’m kinda partial to McKay.”

“Well, considering Daniel is already referring to you as my new John,” this time Sheppard coughs, harshly, “then you can at least call me Rodney.”

“He calls me your new John?” Amusement creeps into Sheppard--John’s tone.

“Yes. He’s a subtle man.”

“As a brick.” John’s sad smile is a little brighter. “So he thinks-”

“It’s what he wants. I’ve made it clear I’m not about to do that. Just ask Hathor. I don’t involve my pets with my sexual practices for at least a year.”

“Poor Hathor.”

“She got off easy. The intern she jumped on needed four stitches.” That gets a little chuckle out of the man. It’s a good sound, and it makes him look, well, charming. A little bit. His face is still bruised (obviously Carson hadn’t been able to get the healing device to work well…again). But still, it’s a nice look. He glances out the window, at the blue sky. “You know, I haven’t been outside since, well, since I got you.”

“You haven’t?” Surprise is evident in his tone.

“I mean what with the radiation from the sun and the bees that could kill me and all my allergies I try to avoid the outside as much as possible, but it’d be a waste to use the rings to go from here to Daniel’s, so I walk--but even so I power walk because I keep a record of my radiation exposure to-”

“Rodney.”

The way John drawls the name, almost exasperated, catches Rodney’s attention. He crosses his arms tensely. “I’m just saying--look, do you want to join me for a walk?”

John blinks slowly. “A walk.”

“Yes. Outside.” He waves his hand towards the window, to the very large yard. “Unless you’d rather stay in here and start on the book-”

John steps past him and stands at the door’s threshold, practically bouncing on his feet. “Let’s go, McKay. Solar radiation waits for no man.”

“Ha ha. Just for that, I’m not sharing my sun block. I made it myself, SPF 90.” He notices Ford fall into step next to him, still grinning but one hand resting on the zat, ready and willing to shoot Sheppard at the first sign of trouble. Rodney doesn’t like the situation, but as John’s face lights up, spreading his arms to breathe the fresh air in deeply, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can change it.

~*()*~

Rodney decides to change his habits as the months go on. While his behavior at the labs doesn’t change in the slightest, he now takes weekends off to spend time with John (granted, ‘weekends’ is an approximation of 48 hours that he takes off during the week, not the traditional Saturday-Sunday model). He takes John out every day (after the first week, John drops the ‘here to walk the dog, McKay’ routine and just goes with it). Sheppard even joins him for dinner twice a week.

They’re building something, a bridge, a relationship...maybe even trust. They still argue; from serious things like Daniel being in charge or the Resistance, to the inane--is Harrison Ford better as Indiana Jones (Rodney) or as Han Solo (Sheppard). Rodney is keeping a careful mental record of their progress, and when he comes to see John in the middle of the fourth month, he knows he’s won a major victor. For the first time, John isn’t wary or guarded, doesn’t flinch when Rodney approaches. He can see that John is finally accepting that Rodney will do nothing to overtly harm him.

Rodney surprises himself by throwing John a surprise party, complete with cake and presents and, for the first time ever, no Ford. Granted, there’s a bracelet on Rodney’s wrist that’s also on some innocent young girl’s so that if John does anything to harm him, the girl will be harmed as well. That had been Daniel’s stipulation (through Bates). John knew Rodney didn’t want that, wanted to trust him; Rodney could see it in the sympathetic face he made--and there wasn’t a hint of hurt.

Eight months after his arrival, John has the freedom to move about the house part of the compound. Ford still hangs around, but Rodney has seen him and John smiling together, watching movies, enjoying each other’s company. He can see John loosening up, becoming accustomed to his lifestyle, adapting. Every now and then, though, he sees John staring out the window, a shroud of sadness enveloping his posture. Rodney would bet that if he could see into John’s skull, he’d be thinking of the other Resistance members, of his betrayal, and maybe guilt for enjoying the life he now leads.

Daniel seems more content with the situation, still having Rodney over for Friday breakfasts. In the tenth month, Daniel also invites John (and the look on Bates’ face when they both arrive sans Ford is worth the knot in his stomach, as far as Rodney’s concerned). Things are tense, walls that had been all but stripped were suddenly rebuilt, and Rodney could see John transform from laidback pseudo-friend to Resistance prisoner. Until Shifu came in.

John remained guarded, but he and Shifu hit it off (to the annoyance of Daniel and irritation of Rodney). They talked about school, skateboarding, and other ‘cool kid’ stuff. Rodney split his attention between John and Daniel. For once, Daniel didn’t bring up the current status of projects (again, he had all the paperwork, so he was still up-to-date), but Daniel doesn’t invite John back. John doesn’t take it personally (though Shifu comes over from time to time afterwards, Bates always less than a foot behind him).

The Halo project (and Rodney’s personal one) are almost halfway complete when the one year anniversary of John’s new life occurs. To celebrate, Rodney takes two days off and brings Sheppard to one of the empty fields almost a kilometer away from the house (and farther than John has ever ventured since becoming Rodney’s pet).

“Bit of a long stroll, McKay.” John has his hands behind his head, eyes on the sky, but one keeps darting down to glance at Rodney as they walk. “Not taking me to some place where you can hide the body, are you?”

It’s a joke, and they both know it. Rodney wouldn’t hurt John, and while Rodney wants to believe the reverse is true, the bracelet is still a part of his wardrobe. “I just thought you’d like something special for our anniversary.”

Sheppard grinned. “Did you build me a really big sundial?”

Rodney snorted. “Yes, because I’m just that much of a traditionalist.”

“I thought traditionally the first anniversary was paper. Did you plant me a tree?”

They’re rising over the final hill, and Rodney stops at the peak and turns around. “Look, just…close your eyes.” John rolls them first, but then he does, still walking forward until Rodney grabs his arm and stops him, angling him so he has the perfect view. It took almost two weeks to convince Daniel, and a million reassurances that he could handle this. He just hopes he’s right, and John won’t screw them both over. “Okay.”

John sucks in a sharp breath as soon as he opens his eyes. “Is that…?” His voice is shocked, and a little strangled.

“Yeah. An X-302. It’s an earlier model, and they made me remove all the weapons, but…uh…” Rodney crossed his arms, thrusting his chin out. “I thought you’d like to fly. For an hour or two.”

“Rodney…” There’s no drawl this time. There’s pain, and elation, and other emotions Rodney can’t even identify. There’s also a spark that’s been missing in John’s eyes, a brightness that Rodney has never seen before. Then, without preamble, John runs down the hill. Rodney watches, happy and apprehensive, and turns to look at the clouds. It really is a nice day, sunny and warm, but overcast enough that he can’t spot the other 302s in the air, waiting to shoot John down if he tries to escape.

He’s pulled from his musings when John is suddenly beside him, panting and grinning and grabbing his arm. “Come with me.”

“What?” It came out as a squawk. 

“Flying. Come with me.” Without waiting for an answer, John is running back down the hill, dragging Rodney behind him.

“Wait! Wait, I don’t--I get airsick!” He nearly trips over a stray rock. “Sheppard! You almost broke my ankle! And there’s no way! I don’t fly. I hate flying! I hated flying when-” And then there were next to the vehicle, and John was still grinning, both arms on Rodney’s shoulders. “This is for you, I really don’t-”

“Trust me.” John squeezes his shoulders. “Please.”

Somehow, between the earnest tone and the joy sparking across the eyes, Rodney finds himself in the copilot seat, strapped in and watching John’s reflection as he starts up the preflight, and then they‘re soaring. Dipping and weaving and Rodney is gripping tightly to the straps across his chest because he’s NEVER flown like this (and never wants to) and he can see the two guards they have just itching to pull the trigger.

But John notices none of it, or if he does, he ignores it. He’s yelling out “hang on” and “woohoo!” and “hey, wanna do a barrel roll” and ignoring Rodney’s panicked responses while laughing. And then, then they’re up in orbit, facing the Earth. The two 302s are hovering in front of them, waiting, watching. John isn’t looking at them. Rodney can see, in the reflection, that they’re locked on the glowing blue orb spinning beneath their craft. And for an entire second, Rodney can swear he sees tears in John’s eyes.

Then they’re dive bombing the planet and Rodney’s screaming and telling John’s he’s insane and trying to find the fucking eject button and does just as John pulls them out of the dive and lands them closer to the estate, giving Rodney a superior smirk over his shoulder. Rodney has the cockpit open and is stumbling to the ground within seconds, and he sees John’s feet land beside him after a minute. “Enjoyed the ride, McKay?”

“You…you maniac! It’s a good thing you were grounded! That was INSANE!”

John laughs and helps Rodney to his feet. “I know. Cool, huh?”

“I nearly passed out! You aren’t supposed to pull Gees like that!”

“You’d faint from only two Gees?”

“Pass out!” Rodney corrects, still glaring, but there’s no real anger (well, some, because John is an insane pilot). He can see how good this has been for John, how much this gift meant. “I am never flying with you again!”

And then John kisses him.

It takes Rodney by such surprise that at first he isn’t really sure what was going on. Then John really gets into it, and Rodney finds a tongue in his mouth and god, suction, and it’s been so long, since before Daniel took over. And it’s good, really good. And he hates to break it, but he has to. With reluctance, he pushes John away, gasping a little as he tries to get enough air again. 

John speaks before he can. “Thanks, Rodney.” The tone is whispered, reserved, and Rodney just knew this would be the perfect gift for John. 

“That wasn’t…you don’t have to-”

“You let me see the world, McKay.” John moves closer, rubbing his hands up and down Rodney’s arms. “You let me fly again…god, Rodney. This…you have no idea how much this means-”

“I have some,” is all Rodney can whisper, because he does. If anyone took away his science, the technology he gets to play with… “But this,” he glances at the 302, “it wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to-”

“I want to.” John leans forward, kissing him briefly on his cheek. “I want…Rodney, please. Let me…”

And if Rodney were a bigger man, he could refuse this, could see that maybe this was just the endorphins from the flight. But Rodney, while practical (and secretive) is also only human. John is gorgeous, and the temptation is too much. “Okay,” he agrees as he pushes John against the hull of the craft. “Okay.”

~*()*~

Life, to Rodney at least, seems to accelerate. Halo and his covert project are suddenly steamrolling, and almost over night he’s got an enormous workforce to oversee building a starship (the same workforce that built the satellites). In addition he has to keep an eye out for saboteurs and security sweeps (because if anyone spotted what he was building into hidden compartments…well, no one else would be smart enough, so it’d be game over). Then there’s writing a training manual for the crew and engineers and the number of bugs that appear as the project progresses; and this all leads to Rodney having several near coronaries.

His saving grace is John. John still has his own room, but now when Rodney comes home John has helped prepare the meal, and set up relaxing evenings, and lets Rodney fuck him to relieve some stress before passing out. They’re five months into their dating-thing before Rodney realizes he hasn’t worn the bracelet in almost a month, and John’s done nothing to him, done nothing suspicious, and Ford has been reassigned to simply guarding the house.

He’s still confined to the building, but trust has been built, and Daniel has gotten his wish--though John isn’t denigrated, or humiliated. Rodney finds John in his bed willingly (at least, he seems willing). There are nights Rodney wakes up and finds John staring at him, hand possessively over his chest, eyes glinting with unexpressed emotion (Rodney theorizes that it’s love, but he’s never seen real love before, so he can’t be sure). When that happens, Rodney offers a crooked smile, and John smirks back, and they fall back asleep together.

It goes on like this for months; days and weeks blurring together until one week before Halo is ready to be launched, and suddenly Rodney’s jerked back to normal time and he has mini-panic attacks where he locks himself in closets with a paper bag and tries not to vomit (which his lab rats believe is due to the problems still remaining in the hyper drive engines). One week, just seven days before he’ll hopefully have Daniel up on that ship and he can (hopefully) end this nightmarish life--and will most likely not survive. 

Three days before launch, he has absolutely nothing that demands his immediate attention at the lab, so he plays hooky and takes John out for another bout of flying (and screaming and threatening to blow up the god damned 302 if John doesn’t learn to fly PROPERLY!) before returning home to hang out and have sex and do nothing but be with each other. Rodney doesn’t say what’s going on, but John…John who has been with him now for two years and knows him so well, can sense something’s wrong.

“Tell me, Rodney.” John can never leave well enough alone, and his whispering it against the skin of Rodney’s shoulder is just cheating. “I know you’re nervous about Halo, but this is different.” There’s a sticky sound as John shifts his chest against Rodney’s back, uncleaned results from the day’s activities. “You don’t lie to me, Rodney, you don’t hide things.” This time, the whispers are on the other shoulder. “Tell me.”

Rodney shudders, because it’s not true, but it’s close to true. The only thing John doesn’t know is his plans, his goal to get rid of Daniel. “I can’t.”

“You can.” The voice is against his neck, and Rodney shuts his eyes. He can’t fight against this, and John knows it. Rodney is a pain in the ass and a bastard, but he can’t deny John. “I worry.”

“I know.” Rodney hesitates, then rolls them over, pinning John in the mattress. John’s eyebrows raise, and he watches as Rodney reaches for the headboard. Instead of the lube, though, Rodney’s hand falls on the remote control, and he presses the correct sequence--31415 (because Daniel only knows the first three digits of pi)--to activate the surveillance loop, hiding him and John from Daniel for a few hours. “Can I trust you, John?”

The playful attitude bleeds away, and John nods. “You know you can, Rodney. I still miss…” They don’t talk about the days before John’s capture, not much anymore. “But I won’t hurt you, I’d never…Rodney, you know-”

Rodney nods and buries his face against the crook of John’s neck. He’s afraid. Not just for the danger he’s putting himself in, but because of what it could mean for their relationship-thing. Rodney has been a supporter of Daniel and mocked the Resistance for two years. He doesn’t know what John will do when he knows the truth, knows that most of Rodney’s beliefs are lies. For all he knows, this will cost him John. But he has to.

John is stroking the nape of his hair when Rodney takes a shuddering breath and collects his thoughts. “I’m going to be with Daniel when the Halo project launches.”

“I know. I wish I was coming, too.” John fell in love with space after that first flight.

“It’s…I’m not coming back.”

At that, John’s hand jerks, and he pushes himself up on his elbows, gaping at Rodney. “What?!”

“I…I have the codes. Once we’re in space, I’m going…the satellites. I’m going to disable them.” He can feel John tense beneath him, but his jaw is hanging open soundlessly. “Then I’m going to set the ship to autodestruct. Without Daniel, the power base…it can’t survive, not long. I’m…I’m going to end it. End him. So that the Earth…” He finally allows his eyes to meet John’s. “I’m not Resistance material, but I’ve been planning, ever since Moscow, ever since Sam…I’ve been building up to this--literally.”

“Rodney…you…” There’s shock, pure and utter shock, with a slight hint of hurt at the betrayal. The anger comes next. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A harsh whisper, and Rodney simply shakes his head.

“Would you have believed me?” 

John’s shocked gaze turns into a glare. “We’ve been sleeping together-”

“I’ve been busy, planning this. It’s not…I had to rewire it so I could do it from the push of a button, and not be caught, and convince Daniel to be on the ship. I wanted to, God, those first days…” Shadows flicker across John’s eyes. “I couldn’t, John. It was too risky.”

“So, what, you’re telling me now before you eliminate me? Is that what this was?” He sneers. “One last romp before you put a bullet between my eyes?”

“What? No!” Rodney sits up. “I’m telling you to warn you!”

John jerks back, surprised. “Warn me?”

“When…when it all goes down, Bates is going to come here and kill you. After I leave…run. Go to the Resistance, go into the general population, just get away. And…” Rodney swallows audibly. “And I want you to move on. Because I won’t…can’t come back.”

The anger fades, and John examines Rodney. “Can’t you…I don’t know, rig it by remote?” There’s a hint of desperation in John’s voice, a fact that makes Rodney’s heart twinge, but he ignores it. 

“I’ve looked at it from every angle, John. This is the only way.” He squeezes John’s hand. “I don’t…I wish I didn’t have to. But…I can’t trust anyone, John. Just…just you.”

John stares at him, seeming to search for the normal tells when Rodney’s lying. After a minute, his shoulders slump, and he reaches up to cup Rodney’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Well, you may be a bit of an idiot, but I…” Rodney was never good with emotions, and it’d be embarrassing except he knows that John is equally as horrible. 

John smiles, sadly, and nods, leaning up to kiss Rodney gently, tugging him back down into the blankets. Rodney doubts he’ll be with John again, so he takes it slow this time, presses his fingers hard enough to leave bruises on the flesh, and when John cries out, Rodney does as well.

Because for the first time in years, he’s regretting his decision to die a hero.

~*()*~

Rodney isn’t a light sleeper, but he’s trained himself to awaken on certain sounds (it was necessary, especially in the beginning of Daniel’s reign, to awaken at a moment’s notice and flee to the bunker). So when he hears an out of place noise in his room, he wakes up to find John missing from his bed, and Colonel Bates powering up a staff weapon inches from his chin. There’s a dark smile on the man’s face, and Rodney feels a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

“Get up.”

Rodney does, slowly. He’s very aware of the dry stains on his boxers, and he shivers as his foot lands on the wooden floor (John had hated the carpet there, claimed the pattern made him dizzy, so Rodney had sent out for a new one while throwing the old one away). Bates escorts him to the emergency rings, and activates them before he’s in the center. When Rodney rematerializes, he’s in the Jackson dining room he’s become so accustomed to over the years. Daniel is sitting with his gentle smile (the one he has before he blows up your nuclear arms) at the head of the table.

John is sitting to the right of Daniel, wearing the one-piece black jumpsuit that all grunts in Daniel’s army wear. He doesn’t even look towards Rodney as Daniel stands and beckons Rodney forward. Rodney’s legs are shaky, but there’s another guard (not Ford, part of him notes) nudging him forward with a zat to indicate he’d better get moving. He takes one look at John’s impassive face, suppresses the urge to hurl, and walks to his usual chair across the table. “Daniel.”

“Rodney. John and I were just having an interesting chat. About Project Halo.”

The grip he has on the back of his chair is tight enough to make his knuckles hurt. “Oh cut the pleasantries, Daniel. You never dance around topics with me, don’t start now. I deserve at least that much.”

The smile vanishes from Daniel’s face, but anger doesn’t replace it. But then, Daniel never really shows anger, except from the cold fire in his eyes. That fire is burning brightly now, even though his face is impassive. He glances at the ribbon device, fingers tracing over the golden metal. “Why’d you do it, Rodney?” He sits back down in his chair, leaning back and indicating Rodney should sit as well.

Rodney simply leans on his chair. “You killed Sam.”

“It was suicide-”

“Oh please! You and I both know you ordered her execution after Moscow! You really think I couldn’t figure out the truth? I am a genius, you know! I knew all along, I knew a lot of things.”

“Yet you didn’t know I knew your little secret.” Daniel taps his metal-tipped fingers against the armrest. “You really didn’t think I’d notice you looping my surveillance devices? The slight changes to the programs for my technology? I know your work, Rodney, I know this technology better than you ever can.”

“Then why’d you let it go on so long?” He’s actually shocked, but he’s pushing his emotions aside, saving the breakdown for later. If there was a later. “If you knew I was betraying you, why did you let me live so long?”

“I didn’t know if it was betrayal, or your natural paranoia.” Rodney let out an irritated huff at that. “Why’d you do it,” Daniel’s voice became softer. “I brought peace to the world, Rodney. Saved it from the Goa'uld. Look at kids like Ford, Shifu. It’s better.”

“Peace under an iron fist, yes, that’s worked so well in our history.”

A small smile returns to Daniel’s face, though the cold steel never leaves his eyes. “You’re not going to be cliché enough to compare me to Hitler and Stalin, I hope.”

Rodney scowls, despite his pounding heart. “No.” He leans forward over the chair. “But you executed Moscow as an example. Iran--I’ll grant Iran. They were going to turn the world into nuclear rubble. But there are countless others. And that’s just the big ones, not counting the stream of Resistance prisoners you’ve tortured.”

“I was wondering when you’d get to Sheppard.” Daniel spares a glance at the man. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything. “He really was a Resistance member, and he nearly did disable my satellites. And your nanites did stop him.” 

Rodnery leans back and crosses his arms, turning his own attention to John. “Couldn’t have put in a chip, or re-educated him. He wouldn’t have still been himself.” His scowl deepens. “Let me guess, the nishtara.” Nishtara was a derivative of nishta, rather than making people blind worshipers (Daniel had never wanted to be worshiped), it planted a subconscious command to obey a master--in this case, Daniel. 

“You are a genius.” Daniel nods towards John. “He has the same gene as Jack, so there was a chance he’d react…poorly.” Jack O’Neill’s death following the nishtara treatment was well-known. “Doctor Beckett came through, though. Worked like a charm.” Daniel offers Rodney a chilling grin. “His personality never changed, he was always him. I just planted the need to reveal the truth to me if you ever betrayed me. The John you knew? Died the instant you uttered your plan to him.”

Of course, of course John had been a plant. Rodney clenches his eyes shut and wills himself to force back his emotions. How could he have been so stupid. 

“Who else is involved, Rodney.” Daniel’s voice is business-like, firm. “We can force the information, but I’d rather give you the benefit of the doubt.”

“No one,” he answers in a strangled tone. “I…I thought I could do it all by myself. I didn’t…no one had any idea until…” Until he’d whispered it to John, until he’d trusted his heart and life to a man who was now a mindless slave. 

When he opens his eyes again, Daniel is nodding his head. “I believe it. You would be arrogant enough to think you could. Sam always said it was your greatest failing.”

They stare at each other in silence, and while sweat breaks out across Rodney’s brow, he feels the energy slump out of him, and lets his arms fall to his side. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

“I may know Goa'uld technology inside and out, but you have been instrumental in adapting it to my purposes. And you’ve been a good friend-”

Rodney doesn‘t bother to hide the bitterness from his tone. “We’ve never been friends.” 

Daniel is silent for a minute, then shrugs, as if Rodney’s statement were nothing. “I’m going to implant a chip, to ensure your loyalty.” Rodney shudders. “But only after you’ve spent a week incarcerated. The Colonel said from day one you needed to be taught a lesson. I think I’m going to let him teach it to you.”

To be honest, Rodney would rather be shot, but he doubted Daniel would do that. To lose his freedom, his freewill, unable to truly express himself… Daniel knows that’s a worse fate for Rodney than anything else. “Jeannie-”

“You acted alone, Rodney. As long as they don’t follow in your footsteps, I won’t hurt them.” There’s almost…kindness in the voice. “I doubt your minions were competent enough for you to entrust parts of your plan to--though I will be having them investigated.” 

“And John?” Rodney ignores the crack in his voice as he says John’s name.

“He’ll undergo re-education, and be given his fondest wish: to fly.” 

“Don’t.” Daniel raises an eyebrow, but even more surprising, John glances over at him. “Please. Just…let him go. Have him watched or whatever, but…you’ve used him enough.”

“You’re not in a position to bargain, Rodney.” 

“If you ever were my…friend,” and he nearly chokes when he says the word, “then don’t do that do him. Just…let him go.”

Rodney can feel Daniel’s blue gaze piercing him, trying to see into his soul. Rodney hangs his head, unable to look at his boss or his lover--ex-lover. Then he hears a chair push back, and finds a hand on his shoulder a minute later. “I didn’t want to, Rodney.” Daniel is right by his ear. “I know what it’s like to lose your love. But you brought this on yourself. If only you-”

“Will you let him go?” He doesn’t want to hear the ‘only ifs’ Daniel has. Rodney has his own list, and it always depresses him. 

Daniel sighs, and squeezes Rodney’s shoulder. If it were almost anyone else, it would be comforting. From Daniel, it sends a cold chill through Rodney’s body. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”

Rodney nods, takes one final glance at John, then turns and, with as much dignity as he can muster, marches over to the set of rings. He’s not going to be dragged away kicking and screaming, or even unconscious. If he’s going to be executed (intellectually if not biologically), he’s going to do it as the hero he imagines himself to be, and not the coward the world believes him to be.

~*()*~

The cell reminds Rodney of a monk’s room at a mission he’d seen while on a school field trip. Bare stone walls, narrow rectangular slits around the wall to help air circulation (yet still leave the room stuffy), and a solitary bed with white sheets, a stone-like mattress (which, ironically, was excellent for his back) and a lump for a pillow. Rodney spends the first few hours catching up on the sleep he missed when Bates woke him in his room. 

When he wakes up again, he finally lets the dam he’s mentally built collapse, and lets out a scream; releasing his anger and hurt and eventually leads to him cursing John with every swear word he can recall. He somehow ends up sitting against the bed, pillow hugged to his chest with his face wet (he’ll never admit to remembering crying over John’s betrayal) and his stomach queasy. 

Unfortunately, Colonel Bates decides to come in at that moment, and has his boots covered with Rodney’s last meal within minutes. This leads to a lot of yelling (mostly from Bates), Rodney standing incensed, and ending with Bates storming off to get cleaned up, and Rodney curled up on the floor holding his arms protectively over the bruises blooming across his chest and stomach. He’s hypoglycemic, so he knows throwing up the only meal he’ll probably have for a while was a dumb move, but it really was just bad timing on Bates’ part (and he blames John for it, because now everything is his fault).

Hours later, when Rodney’s starting to feel the effects of hypoglycemia (he wants to eat the meal Daniel provided, but oatmeal was never his favorite food, and his stomach is still wincing in pain), a door appears in his wall--or rather, one of the windows expands to allow a body to come through. Rodney jumps up when a bulky form lands on the floor headfirst, then looks up to see Bates growling.

The bulky form turns out to be a captured Resistance member named Lorne. He’s already pretty beat up and looks worse than John did when was first presented to Rodney. Bates spends the afternoon taking turns with them (a guard stands by the normal door, zat at the ready). By the time dinner arrives, Rodney feels like he did as a kid when the bullies resented his big brain and made him pay with bruises. Lorne is shuddering on the floor, wheezing. Bates gives them each one last kick (to Rodney, in the ass, to Lorne, in the chest), and leaves. The partition is left open.

Rodney isn’t sure what to make of that, but after he gets his own breathing under control, he crawls over to Lorne and pushes him onto his back, grabbing his bottle of water and offering it to Lorne, who jerks his head back when he sees who’s over him. Rodney lets out an irritated puff of air. “In case you didn’t notice, I was here this afternoon too. Now drink, it’s probably better than anything you’ve gotten since you arrived.”

Lorne is suspicious, but he takes small sips from the bottle, allowing Rodney to help him. After half the bottle is drained, Lorne feebly brushes it away and tries to move again. Rodney rolls his eyes, but drags Lorne to the wall so he can sit up against it. “You’re McKay.”

“And you’re Lorne. Any first name?”

Lorne stares at him, suspicion, then confusion blossoming across his swelling face. “Why’re you here?”

“Why are you? I thought the Resistance was better at being caught.”

Lorne shuts his eyes and leans his head against the wall. “Shep betrayed me.”

Rodney sits there for a moment, then scoots to the other side of the window-doorway and leans against the wall. “If you mean John Sheppard, then I think we have something in common.”

Lorne opens one eye to look at him, then his mouth jerks up in a half smile. “You? What’d you do, piss in his highness’ pool?”

Rodney looks away, picking at the floor with a finger. He doesn’t answer, not immediately, and it appears Lorne is dropping off to sleep. When it sounds like Lorne’s breathing has evened out, Rodney finally whispers, “I planned his assassination and the destruction of his satellites.”

When he looks up, Lorne’s eyes are wide open, obviously not believing what he just heard. “That…doesn‘t sound like the McKay from the lectures.”

Rodney sighs. “That’s what John said, too.”

Lorne thankfully falls asleep after that, and Rodney follows his example. When he wakes up, Lorne and the doorway is gone, and if it wasn’t for the pained screams he can hear from the room over, he’d have thought he imagined the whole thing. Rolling his shoulders, Rodney makes his way to the morning oatmeal and slowly eats it (slowly, because his hands are shaking from the onset of hypoglycemia; at least his stomach is doing better). 

Bates is rougher today, pulling out a pain stick and jamming it against the back of his neck at every opportunity (despite his continued screams that Daniel wants his brain intact and the energy coursing through nerves so close to his brain has to be bad for him). During the first break, Lorne’s voice drifts through the upper window.

“Why didn’t he just use the nishtara?”

Rodney lets out a pained whine. “I’m allergic to one of the ingredients. It would send me into anaphylactic shock.”

“Bummer.”

It was such a John-like response that Rodney lets out a choked sob.

The days continue, sometimes Bates brings Lorne in to punish them together. Lorne always gets the worst of the attention, but it’s a form of fucking with his mind. Rodney knows this because one day he’s screaming to the Colonel that Lorne’s had enough and to pay attention to him--and Christ, he never wanted to be a martyr that suffered, just one that saved the world--but that’s neither here nor there now. That evening it’s Lorne that helps him drink, giving him a curious look, almost as if he doesn’t believe Rodney would do something like that. In all honesty, Rodney’s rather surprised with himself, too.

On the fifth day (at least, he assumes it’s the fifth day; the cells are underground and time is determined by artificial lightning and internal clocks--and Rodney’s internal clock was pretty skewed to begin with) something snaps inside him, and Rodney realizes he has to make a decision: push Bates hard enough so that he accidentally kills Rodney (which has the added bonus of getting Bates executed by an angry Daniel), or give up and wait resignedly for them to place the chip in his head.

By now, very little can surprise him, so he plots out a little scenario in his mind that he’s pretty sure will push Bates over the edge and end this before he can do more damage to humanity (because he doesn’t want to even imagine what sorts of technology he’d devise with the unquestioning loyalty personality). It’s not a clever plan, and when Bates throws Lorne in, it puts a little bit of a hitch, but Rodney’s pretty sure Bates won’t kill Lorne out of spite. One dead valuable prisoner is better than two (but then, Bates is an edgy guy, so Rodney’s not completely sure; however, he’s just going to have to take a chance that Lorne will survive).

“Of course,” Rodney says, when the plan is executed--except it didn’t go exactly as he planned and for an injured guy Lorne could move fast. The guard never saw him coming, but then he was focusing his zat on Rodney, rather than paying attention to Lorne. “Of course, my plan doesn’t work.”

“Seemed to work fine to me, doc.” Lorne is checking out the door. He’s shaking, but steadier on his feet than, well, actually, Rodney’s never seen him this steady before. He numbly takes the pain stick Lorne hands him, the pain stick he had grabbed just before it struck his chest and shoved upward--coincidentally, slamming against Bates’ windpipe and making the man fall to his knees. Rodney had meant to simply offer resistance, obviously Bates hadn’t expected any and had suffered the consequences. By the time he gathered his wits again, Lorne had disabled the guard and knocked out Bates. 

“Yes, um…now what?” Lorne looks back at him, and Rodney can see his pupils are dilated. “Oh my god! You’re high!”

“Just a little upper, doc.” Lorne grins. “Little gift from a friend. Ready to get out of here?”

Rodney knows he should say yes, but the last time he trusted someone, he’d ended up, well…here. Lorne looks nervous, though, and a bit antsy, and he keeps checking the doorway for more guards. And really, if it is another trap, the worst Daniel could do was kill him, and he was ready to die anyways. So, scowling, he nods. “Lead the way. Just try not to get distracted by the shiny lights.”

“Funny, McKay.” Lorne is already moving down the hall, and Rodney has to half-jog to keep up with him. “You know, I’m due for a hell of a detox when we get outta here, so you might want to show some respect.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Rodney tries to keep his voice down. There had to be at least a dozen guards down here, if not more.

“Ring room, fourteen meters ahead.” He nods towards a closed door in the wall. “Three guards. You distract ‘em, I’ll take ‘em out.”

“Distract them? How?” And he really should’ve seen this coming, the whole moment when Lorne grabs his arm and shoves him towards the opening door. Rodney stumbles, and he stares wide-eyed at the three staff-wielding men. There’s a moment where the world seems to stand still, then he feels the energy pass right over the shoulder as the first guard falls to the ground and Rodney’s instinct has him curling up and rolling like a pill bug towards the wall. A set of legs enters his periphery and he jams the pain stick into the man’s leg. The yell is cut off abruptly, and Lorne is hauling him to his feet, grinning.

“Good work, doc.” He pushes Rodney to the center of the room, then goes over to the controls, opens the panel, and starts rearranging the crystals. “This is gonna be a rough ride, so hang on.” And before Rodney can ask what he means, Lorne has a tight grip on his arm and is firing into the control crystals just as the rings activate.

~*()*~

“Major, care to tell me what McKay is doing on my base?”

Rodney’s eyes snap open at the familiar irritated voice. “O’Neill?!” His voice is doing that annoying squeaking thing again. It’s not a hallucination, though. Jack O’Neill, supposedly dead from the nishtara, is standing less than five feet away wearing green BDUs and a bright orange parka that looks way too warm for summer, with his scarred eyebrow raised almost to his gray hairline. 

Then Rodney takes in the rest of the scene, the soldiers around him, the guns aimed at him, and the ice behind them. He shivers, and realizes it’s not from his injures, but because he’s honest to God cold. He can actually see his puffs of breath, and he turns and pushes Lorne’s shoulder. “Where the hell did you send us?!”

“Antarctica.” Rodney notices a lot of the guards tensing at Lorne’s confession. “Don’t worry, he’s cool.” That seems to mollify them somewhat, but their weapons remain leveled. Lorne gives Rodney one reassuring smile, then salutes O’Neill sloppily. “Mission accomplished, sir. McKay’s as good a guy as was reported, and he had a plan for taking Daniel out.” He took his own shuddering breath. “Permission to get this junk outta my system, sir?”

Jack’s posture softens briefly. “Get going, before you collapse.” Lorne nods, hands off his zat, and walks almost as if in a daze past the wall of soldiers. Jack watches another soldier take Lorne, then turns his attention back on Rodney. “I think you found someone to like you, McKay. Probably a first.”

That hits a little too close to an open wound, and Rodney’s had a really shitty week, so all in all, he’s not surprised when he falls back to old habits. “You couldn’t have just ASKED?! You brainless twits had to wait until I was in jail and getting beaten before figuring out I was on your side?! I knew you had deficiencies, Colonel, but you did work with Sam! I expected better!”

Jack’s nose wrinkles, and he waves at his men, who begrudgingly lower their weapons. “We couldn’t risk-”

“You know something, I don’t really care because I have bruises and I know Lorne probably isn’t singing your praises at the moment and I REALLY need a shower! So whatever it is you want? Tell me so I can go clean up and, you know, recover from my incarceration!”

Jack opens his mouth to respond, but another voice comes out instead. “Jesus, Rodney. You were only in there five days. And it’s not like you were in any real danger.”

Rodney feels his knees try to buckle at the sound, his chest begin to heave as he struggles to get air. Instead of giving in to his instincts, though, he grips the pain stick tighter and focuses a narrow glare on the man that steps out from behind O’Neill. He’s changed into the same uniform as Jack, but the hair is just as gravity-defying, and the hazel eyes are just as intense.

“Lorne knew the stakes.” John says, approaching Rodney easily, as if he hadn’t reached into Rodney’s chest and ripped out his heart before dunking it in lemon juice earlier this week. “We had to confirm you were on the level, were someone that could help us, before we risked everything.” He’s less than a foot away, exuding an aura of soothing calm, reaching out a comforting hand.

Rodney waits a beat, then somehow finds the strength to land his fist firmly against John’s jaw. So firmly, in fact, John is now sprawled on the floor, clutching his cheek. “You contemptible BASTARD!” The guards have their guns up again, but Rodney doesn’t care, doesn’t see them. “You…you…do you know what you did to me?! How you made me feel?! Do you know what it’s like to have someone…to be…” And he lets out a low, angry keening noise, gripping the pain stick with both hands tightly and looming over John who is--to Rodney’s satisfaction--cowering slightly under his glare. “I have a good mind to take this stick and shove it up your-”

“McKay!” 

O’Neill’s voice is like a beacon through the haze of anger, but it doesn’t calm him down. “Did you order him to do this?! Is that was this was? Revenge? Some sick way of trying to break me?!” He slams the end of the pain stick on the floor, nearly spearing John’s head in the process. “I swear to god, Colonel, if you did-”

“McKay!” The voice is loud, booming, and enough to stop Rodney’s tirade. He’s also suddenly aware that he’s having trouble breathing and the room is spinning a little and he feels like he could shatter into a million pieces and he really, really doesn’t want anyone to see that, especially John. He stands there a minute, trying to control himself, and sees the Colonel says something, but he can’t hear what, and then the pain stick is removed from his clutches and he falls to his knees and he’s peripherally aware of the room emptying, and then there’s just him. 

Him and the Colonel and John, who’s once again on his feet, standing by the door and looking hurt and vulnerable and angry and Rodney can’t look at him right now, so he just shuts his eyes and hides; hides in the figures and equations in his mind, until he can’t feel John’s gaze on him anymore. Then, and only then, does he allow himself to pull out of his safe zone. 

“You’re as much a pain in the ass as I remember,” is the first thing he hears, and he looks up to see Colonel O’Neill sitting beside him. One knee is bent, with his arm resting on it, the other is stretched straight out. He frowns at him. “You okay now?”

“No,” he answers quietly, “but I guess I’ll have to be.”

Jack looks at him, eyes narrow as he figures something out, then he sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. “What a mess.”

“Tell me the truth.”

An eye peaks out between fingers, followed by a small sigh. “I faked my death with the nishtara. Dr. Beckett is a Resistance sympathizer. He helped get me out, and keep quiet about the truth. Said he couldn‘t do anything else, though.” He looks up towards the ceiling of the ice cave. “Turns out I have this weird gene that protects me from its effects.” He indicates the doorway with his head. “John has it, too. And Lorne. We try to only risk people we know can’t be controlled by the stuff.”

“Did you tell him to sleep with me?” Jack gives him a sharp look. “Don’t bother with that whole homophobic crap. The American army was dissolved, and really, you need all the people you can get. Who they fuck can’t matter.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “You always were too smart for your own good.” He’s silent, then he shakes his head. “Sheppard’s orders were to gather information, be an inside man. We didn’t even know he was still alive until he contacted us months later, while you were at work.”

“Daniel making him my pet wasn’t part of your plan.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair. “Look, we were desperate. We’re doing pretty well here, thanks to the Asgard, but they can only do so much, and…” He lets out a grunt. “We needed something, McKay. Something that would turn the tide, give us a sure win. Instead, we found…”

“You found a powerful ally that you immediately turned over to Daniel.”

Jack’s frown grew. “That wasn’t part of the plan at all. Sheppard said he had to, or Daniel would do something unpredictable.”

“What, he couldn’t whisk me away in the middle of the night?”

“Not without Daniel turning the world upside-down. He’s smart now, smarter than you.” Rodney didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “But he also needs you, needs your help.”

“Don’t you think he’ll turn the world upside-down now?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’ll assume Lorne killed you by bringing you to us.”

Rodney lets out a weak laugh. “I was ready, you know. To be killed.”

Jack stares at him for a long moment, long enough that Rodney actually feels uncomfortable. “Sheppard told us. Your plan. You would’ve died.”

“I would’ve saved the Earth. What’s my life compared to the billions I’d be saving?”

Jack shook his head, laughing softly. “You have changed since we last met.”

“Last time we met, Sam was still alive.”

Jack’s light attitude fades at that. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you. For a long time.”

“Since Moscow.”

Jack nods, then starts standing up, wincing as both his knees crack. “Come on. A shower and hot meal, then we’ll get down to the nitty gritty.”

Rodney continues to sit on the floor for a minute, then hauls himself up. “It won’t be easy.”

“With Daniel, I don’t expect it to be.”

Under his breath, Rodney mutters, “I mean working with him.”

Jack shoots him another hard glance, but shrugs and ignores the comment, waving his arm forward. “After you, McKay. Warm water awaits.”

~*()*~

Embarrassingly enough, he falls asleep in the shower. Rodney blames it on the endorphin high and emotional roller coaster he’s been on all day, but it’s still embarrassing. When he wakes up, he finds a clean uniform (exactly like everyone else’s), some soup in a thermos, and a note saying there’s a meeting at 2100 hours. Glancing at the clock in the room, Rodney sees it’s almost 2030 hours, so he gets dressed, drinks the soup, and asks the nice guard at the door to lead the way. 

Jack is, unsurprisingly, already there, looking over some papers and giving orders into an earpiece. Rodney sits at the indicated seat (he notes that the guard remains just outside the open door, and finds the small irony of him and John trading positions slightly amusing) and examines the surroundings again. Judging from the shape and the crystal-like lattice, he’d guess the Tok’ra offered some of their tunnel crystals to help get the place up off the ground. He’s also willing to bet them or the Asgard provided some sort of shielding technology, because Daniel has scans done globally searching out Resistance strongholds. 

There are glimpses, though, of technology he doesn’t recognize. Not Goa'uld, not Tok’ra, not even Asgard. Metal latticework and stain-glass like designs that weren’t formed by the ice or the technology here. It appears…it almost appears like a new type of technology, but technology that’s been built over out of necessity. He remembers reading that there had been a Stargate here. What if the Ancients had built a small outpost? That had to be it, and there was some technology just left here, waiting to be discovered.

And he can see a whole other life, a life where he joined the Resistance, and helped them understand technology built by the builders of the Stargates. Helped them to undermine Daniel from the beginning, to work alongside the Asgard and Tok’ra and catch glimpses of their advanced technology without having to figure it out himself. He can see a lifetime where he and John-

His thoughts abruptly shut down at that, and his head snaps to Jack, who’s staring at him as if he can’t remember why he’s here. “Meeting. 2100.” Comprehension lights, and then Rodney hears someone else enter, and grabs hold of the table so he doesn’t leap out of his chair and turns an accusing stare on Jack. “What’s HE doing here?!”

John looks slightly offended. “I am the Colonel’s second-in-command.”

“Oh God.” Rodney puts his head in his hands. “I should’ve let Daniel kill me.”

“Now, now, McKay. Behave yourself.”

“I always behave myself. You should ask your 2IC what sort of behavior he had while I sat quietly at my desk working.” John’s ears turn slightly pink, but otherwise he gives no indication he’s embarrassed by the memory of THAT day. “Why am I here?”

“Sheppard said you had the codes to shut down the satellites, and a way to blow up the ship. Let’s use them.”

Rodney sighs, then sits back in his chair. “I lied.”

John sits up at that. “What? You told me--you made a big deal about you not returning!”

“Who betrayed whom, Sheppard.”

“Children,” Jack says warningly.

Rodney rolls his eyes. “The instant Sheppard told Daniel, he would’ve gone over and replaced every single code he had, and created new protocols to protect them. So bravo. You just shot THAT plan out of the sky.”

Sheppard lets out an irritated huff, sitting back and crossing his arms.

Jack’s look is sour. “The ship?”

“That…was a lie. It was never going to blow up.”

“You said you weren’t coming back,” John reiterates mulishly.

“Because I expected Bates to shoot me! Assuming it worked. If it didn‘t, then Daniel would’ve kill me.”

Jack leans forward now, interested. “Assuming what worked, McKay?”

Rodney sighs. “About a year ago we shot down an Asgard ship.”

“We know. Thor was lucky to escape.”

Rodney winces, but continues. “Do you remember when you got that alien knowledge downloaded into your head?”

John gives Jack an odd look. Jack’s sour look just turns more sour. “Hell of a tangent.”

“Do you?”

“Mostly, yeah. What’s that gotta do with--” And then he stops, the skin around his eyes crinkling, his eyebrows dancing around as he starts making connections. “You mean that whole light sucky thing?”

Rodney lets out an exasperated breath at that. “Yes, the light sucky thing. I found one, and was able to hide it during the inventory sweep. I’ve been reprogramming it.” He leans forward, ignoring John’s impressed look. “I…was going to use it on him, when we were in orbit. Just…zap his brain and disable the satellites.”

“Take out all that pesky Goa'uld knowledge, bring the old Daniel back.”

“That was the plan, yes. Until someone,” he shoots a nasty glare at John, “ruined it.”

“Were you sure it was going to work?”

That was the only chink in the plan. “I, uh…no.” He crosses his arms in front of him. “I couldn’t exactly test it, you know. But I did have a contingency plan.”

“Disabling the satellites.” John finally spoke again.

“And the guards.” Once more, he had the their attention. “I figured out a way to short out the chips controlling most of Daniel’s guards. And planted a worm to activate on my signal to neutralize the defense systems in the compound.”

“So if you couldn’t save Daniel, you’d just leave him with pandemonium within his ranks.” John was grinning now, excited. Rodney tried not to let it get to him.

“Can you still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Knock out the guards, the defenses. Fix Daniel’s mind?”

“Yes, yes, and no.” He glances at his orange parka. He really would’ve preferred a sweater. And a heater. “I hid the device on _Prometheus_.”

“The ship you built.”

“Yes. If I could get inside the ship and retrieve the device…but I doubt I could even get close.”

“What about building another device?” John’s voice again.

“I didn’t build the first one, Sheppard. I merely reprogrammed it. I doubt I could build it, even under duress.”

Silence fell upon the room, and Rodney glances up to see Jack staring at the table, and John watching him. His breath catches, and he hates that even after everything, John can still affect him, can still touch him with nothing but a look. Finally, Jack raps his knuckles on the table. “All right. McKay, give me those codes. All of them.” Rodney doesn’t see that he has much choice, so he writes them on the pad and pen lying in front of him. It’s quiet as he does so, and he knows that he could be signing his future away by this action. After he slides the pad across the table, Jack looks it over then waves at him. “Go wander. Try not to blow anything up. Sheppard, let’s talk.”

Rodney hesitates, then slowly rises from his chair and makes his way down the hall. He isn’t sure what’s going to happen next, but has the distinct feeling that he won’t be a part of their plans. It really wasn’t fair, he’d been working on this for years, but he was also the Resistance’s number two enemy, so he couldn’t blame them. After standing there not moving for a minute, he finally asks his guard--Stackhouse--to lead him to Lorne, so he can see how the guy was doing.

After that, he wanted to look at that weird room with the stain glass floor and weird chair. He’s still a scientist, after all.

~*()*~

“You shouldn’t turn your back to the door in this place, Rodney. It’s not safe.”

Rodney, engrossed in reading the research regarding O’Neill’s strange genes and its relationship to the Ancient’s technology, forgets where he is and hits his head on the edge of the chair as he jerks back. “What the hell?! Get out of here, Sheppard!”

Sheppard holds up his hands placatingly, staying just one step off the stylized floor. “No can do, McKay. O’Neill wants me to keep an eye on you during the attack.”

That has his attention, and he’s back on his feet in John’s face before he can help himself. “Attack?! What are you guys-”

“We sent the codes to short out the chips and disable the defenses. We’re going for an all-out raid on the compounds.”

“Oh god.” Rodney falls back and sits on the edge of the weird chair. “Carson, you have to get Carson--and Ford-”

“I gave them a list of who might be sympathetic.” John hesitates, then stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to, uh, talk.”

Rodney rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been a part of your talks before.”

John winces. “I didn’t want to, but Daniel…I could see he would do something if I didn’t. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Trite as it sounds, there’s always a choice!” Rodney snaps. “Damn it, Sheppard! You could’ve done SOMETHING different! Something that, oh I don’t know, didn’t involve me ending up getting beaten to a pulp daily! Something that didn’t involve putting my scientists in danger! Something that didn’t…” Rodney shuts his mouth with an audible click of his teeth, unwilling to give voice to the real issue, to let Sheppard see anymore than he already has.

“Something that didn’t hurt you,” John says softly, looking at the ground and digging his toe into the ice. “I didn’t want to. But-”

“Yes, I heard, you had no choice.” Rodney’s voice is filled with venom, and he can see John flinch at the tone. “So now, what, you think we can just…pick up where we left off? Go back to the way things were?” John shakes his head hesitantly. “You did! You thought I’d just forgive you because I’d see it was for the greater good or some crap!”

“Rodney-”

“You hurt me!” He really didn’t mean to scream that. “Do you get it, John?! I was…am…we had something! And you went and broke it apart to suit your agenda! We can’t have that something again, because I’ll always be wondering ‘is it real? Does he mean it? What’s he really thinking about?’” He takes a shuddering breath, pushing a hand against the headrest of the chair. “We’re through.”

“Rodney-”

“No! That’s it! I’m done talking about this! I don’t want to dwell because this has been the worst week of my life and it all leads back to you!”

Before John can respond, Lorne, looking pale and jittery (but better than he had a few hours ago), runs in with a field radio. “Shep! I need--McKay!” Lorne thrusts the radio in his direction. “O’Neill. He says it’s an emergency.”

Rodney glances at John, then takes the receiver. “Colonel?”

_“McKay! I need you to work a miracle on the satellites, now!”_

Rodney is surprised. “What’s going on?”

_“McKay-”_

“I need to know what’s going on before I just start hammering out some codes!”

He hears O’Neill take a deep breath. _“The compound defenses were disabled, and his best people were down. It was easy to corner Daniel and get past his shield. The instant I zatted him, though, the satellites powered up, and now they’re aiming towards the planet!”_

Rodney pales, and he knows he’s not the only one. The beams on the defense satellites are powerful enough to carve up this planet, given enough time. “Crap… I can’t…Colonel, he must’ve created some sort of failsafe. It took me weeks to hack out a code to disable them. If those didn’t work-”

_“They didn’t!”_

“Then I need weeks to do it again!”

_“My guys say you got three minutes before they fire! McKay, you’re the second best expert on these things, do something!”_

Rodney drops the radio and looks around wildly. Even in his own lab there’d be nothing he could do--short of erecting a feeble shield to protect himself (and fail). Groaning, he stumbles towards a stray wall, trying to think of something, anything, he can do. His eyes fall upon the research he’d been looking over underneath the chair.

Colonel O’Neill said John had the gene.

It was a long-shot theory, but it was all they had. “Get in the chair!” He grabs John’s arm and pulls him towards it with a strength he didn’t know he had. “Sit! Sit!”

“Rodney,” John resists sitting, shaking his head. “Last time I nearly revealed the base location-”

“We’re about to be vaporized, this bases’ security isn’t exactly a high priority! You sit your ass in that chair NOW!” Stunned, John sits, and Rodney pushes him back. As he theorized, it lights up, and Rodney crosses his fingers--not that he was superstitious, but now was as good a time as any to find religion. “Close your eyes and…and think of weapons, of blowing up satellites.”

“Rodney-”

“Less talk more think!”

“Two minutes,” Lorne called from the doorway.

John shut his eyes, and Rodney can see the concentration. Then there’s a rumbling, and a hole appears less than a foot away from Lorne and yellow squid things are flying out of the floor and drilling through the roof of the base.

_“McKay! What the hell are you-”_ Then there’s static, and the next words from the radio are, _“Jesus, fuck! What are those--McKay! McKay, answer me!”_

Rodney can’t answer, because somehow John has pulled up a visualization of the Earth (probably some sort of sensor technology also buried beneath the ice) and is transfixed by the mass of yellow lights swarming the globe, obliterating each and every satellite. Thirty seconds before Armageddon, the threat is eliminated, and John is staring with glazed eyes at a now free Earth. “Did…did I do that?”

Before he can stop himself Rodney hauls John up from the chair and kisses him, pulling John’s body against him, and forces his tongue down the man’s throat. John responds by clutching Rodney, by holding on as if he’s the last bastion of sanity and it takes Lorne holding the radio up to their ears with O’Neill screaming before they come apart.

Rodney says, “I still hate you!”

John says. “I’m sorry.”

~*()*~

War is a messy business, no matter how easily it’s finally won. The end of a tyrannical reign is even messier, and so there is no happily ever after, at least not in the traditional sense. John drags Rodney to the _Prometheus_ , where he finds the reprogrammed Asgard device and Colonel Bates (who, it appeared, hadn’t had a chip in his head, and was just a well-trained loyal asshole). There’s a struggle where Rodney’s brain is nearly fried by a ribbon device and John shoots Bates with a staff weapon. Rodney recovers, and John vanishes.

The device works, and Daniel is contrite and, of all things, depressed after he loses the knowledge (Rodney ends up yelling at him for a good hour before O’Neill tells Lorne to drag him away to bed before someone realizes they have the two most wanted men in the world in the same room and just bombs the place). For saving the world from oblivion, and his obvious attempt to stop Daniel (even if the Resistance did take most the credit), Rodney is confined to his compound under guard for three years. It’s a comfortable prison, and Rodney knows in the end, he got off easy.

He follows the news of Daniel obsessively, until at the end of the first month, when the World Court is ready to try Daniel on crimes against humanity and mass genocide. On his way to court, a sniper makes it past security and shoots Daniel. The media captures a shot of Jack O’Neill holding his hands to the wound trying to staunch the blood flow before the military takes over and cuts the feed. Later, he discovers that Daniel survived, and the World Court secretly cast judgment over Daniel while he was recovering: exile.

Officially, Daniel is declared dead on the twenty-ninth of September. Unofficially (as is reported to Rodney by Lorne), Daniel asked the Asgard to return him to the planet that they had found Ernest Littlefield on, since Abydos was no longer his home. Shifu, like all offspring of deposed royalty, is scorned by society at large, but the head of the World Court--Elizabeth Weir, a strong woman Rodney recalled from old U.N. reports--adopts the boy.

Colonel--now General--O’Neill is given control of the Stargate, and a new international oversight committee is created for him to report to as he recreates Stargate Command, and all its branches (Rodney has already been told that Area 52 will never be his, nor will he be welcome again). It stings, but Rodney can understand their reasoning. He’s had a few offers, even in prison, to help redevelop some of the technology Daniel used--especially the defense satellites, since the Goa'uld (and worse) are still out there. Rodney declines all offers, and focuses his study on the Stargate, and reports on the technology found in Antarctica. 

A month into his incarceration, the Asgard return (after dropping Daniel off) and beam him onto the ship. He’s a little stunned, but the alien, Hermiod, has a few questions regarding the chair and the weapon that was used against the satellites. Rodney answers to the best of his ability, then get zapped back to Earth. A week later, Lorne tells him the Asgard have formally entered into an alliance with the humans, leaving two heavy cruisers in orbit to protect (and guide) the Earth as it slowly rebuilds itself.

During his first months, Lorne becomes his new best friend (and while the marine named Cadman is annoying, inflammatory, and a major pain in the ass, she becomes a friend, too; though Rodney sees less of her). Officially, Rodney is a prisoner and Lorne is his guard, but unofficially, Lorne doesn’t bring his weapon into the house, doesn’t raise a hand to Rodney. The ‘thanks’ is never said, but the actions say it just as plainly, and Rodney offers Lorne a kitten after Hathor gets knocked up by the local ally cat (the whore, Cadman jokes).

Carson doesn’t come to see him, even though they’re in the same compound. Carson got a year for developing nishtara, but otherwise he worked purely on research, and so wasn’t considered that bad a guy. They still talk, though. All the communication devices Daniel had installed still work, so they have long weekly talks. Sometimes about their families (Jeannie still won’t speak to him, Carson’s mother is fretting terribly), sometimes about the decisions they made, and sometimes they sit looking at each other and everything they want to say is clear in their expressions. Rodney wouldn’t be surprised if, after Carson’s free, they never spoke again. 

He inquires about John, but Lorne is either sworn to secrecy, or doesn’t know. Rodney’s gotten no calls, no notes, not even a secondhand ‘hey, Shep said hi’ in three months. So when there’s a knock on his door, he yells, “Why are you knocking? You know it’s open! Don’t tell me you got into Daniel’s liquor cabinet again! You know what your superiors say about that!” He expects it to be Lorne here for their nightly chess match (Rodney’s teaching him how to play, and he’s actually pretty good for a flyboy).

“Actually, I don‘t think my superiors really care how drunk I get.” It isn’t Lorne that steps into the room, and for a moment Rodney has that urge to punch that he really should see a therapist about. John has a tired look about him, and is paler than he was, but he’s still in the Antarctic uniform. They stare, sizing each other up, and then Rodney turns his attention back to the equations on his desk, keeping his back to the man. “Rodney-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sheppard. Three months. I’ve been here three months-”

“And I’ve been trapped on that stupid base dismantling the Resistance and trying to get the goddamned chair to work!” John’s voice is exasperated, and sounds tense. “They wanted me to fire another one of those things, make it light up, do something! I couldn’t! And they wouldn’t believe me and they wouldn’t let me go or contact anyone and finally I had to beg--you hear that Rodney? BEG!--General O’Neill to get me the fuck outta there before I went all Shining on their asses!”

“No play and no beer make Sheppard go crazy?” John growled in response. “You’re such a soldier.”

“Rodney, I wanted--after what happened…you didn’t think I’d just leave, did you?”

“Actually, Major-”

“Colonel.”

“Sheppard! I don’t know what I thought.” Rodney shoves the pages he was looking at away and turns in his chair. “You keep hurting me, leaving me. And now? Now you’re a war hero, like Lorne and O’Neill and all the Resistance members. So maybe I thought you realized what a crappy catch I am. Maybe I thought you decided to benefit from the fame and find yourself a proper wife. Maybe I thought you realized that I was a war criminal and you didn’t want the stigma attached with being his lover. Maybe-”

John pins his arms to the chair and kisses him, his knee pushing Rodney’s legs apart and a primal growl rumbling in his throat. Rodney fights him for a good solid minute, before he gives in to his feelings (that he just knows are going to hurt him in the end) and responds appropriately, kissing back and fighting to get his hands around John. John lets him and suddenly they’re making out like horny teenagers and John’s hand is down Rodney’s pants and Rodney is groping John’s ass and then there’s embarrassing moans and Rodney feels wetness spreading across John’s crotch and it’s enough to send him over the edge.

Hours later, they’re both naked in Rodney’s bed, and John is whispering promises into his skin. Rodney is almost asleep, but he can just make out ‘you can trust me’ and ‘please, please forgive me’ and ‘I’m never leaving again.’ Rodney falls asleep dreaming of a world where John’s promises are true, and that maybe, maybe they’ll work out.

~*()*~

“Well no wonder they couldn’t get it to work.” Rodney hefts the drained Zero Point Module from its casing beneath the chair. “Firing those drone things probably drained it.” 

John tilts his head. “Didn’t they find one of those things in Egypt last year?”

Rodney grins, mouth curving crookedly. “Exactly!” 

John grins back, arms crossed as he leans back, glancing down the hall. “So how’d you blackmail General O’Neill into giving it to you?”

“I didn’t blackmail him! I simply showed him it was stupid to waste the ZedPM in a locked facility when we can use it here.”

“Meaning I need to send him a fruit basket.”

“You two are fruity enough for me,” Jack says as he enters, carrying a silver crate in his hands. “You sure this won’t drain this one too, McKay?”

Rodney rolls his eyes, already grabbing for the box. “We verified its power reserve, and it’s got more than enough to handle a few tests.” He yanks the box out of the Colonel’s arms and sits by the hole revealing the innards of the chair system.

Jack looks at his empty hands blankly, then turns to John, eyebrows raised. “Demanding little cur, isn’t he.”

“Some of us like that,” John replies in kind.

“Better you than me.”

“Still here, can hear every word you’re saying,” Rodney sing-songs as he caresses the powered ZedPM. John would be jealous, but he’s had Rodney’s caresses to himself for three years, so he doesn’t let it bother him much. “And in you go…” He watches the crystal submerge into the circuitry, and the floor lights up. “Yes! John, sit!”

“Say the magic word,” John says, rolling his eyes.

“Blowjob. Now sit.”

Jack makes a face. “I really didn’t want that image.”

“Sorry, sir.” John’s ears are flaming red, and he gives the General an apologetic look before giving Rodney a sharp glare. Finally, he sits on the chair. “Now what?”

Rodney opens his mouth, shuts it, then looks at Jack. “Uh…I actually hadn’t gotten that far.”

“Great.” Jack crosses his arms. “McKay…”

“Fine, fine.” Rodney huffs and puts a hand on John’s shoulder. “Think of where we are in the solar system.” For a minute, the three of them are staring at a three-dimensional representation of Sol. Then it zooms in on Earth, on Antarctica. “John…”

“It’s not me, Rodney. It’s…it’s like I can feel it. It wants to show me something.” John squints, and then a set of symbols appear over the Earth. “Okay,” he drawls. “And that is…?”

“An address.” Jack says.

“To another galaxy,” Rodney amends, making sure he’s really seeing eight symbols and not seven. He’s hastily scribbling the designs down on his hand. “John, what else is it saying?”

John lifts his hand, and Rodney clasps it automatically. “Just two words:

“Terra Atlantis.”

~*(End)*~


End file.
